


Callum's Sexuality Crisis (TM) - Prose Edition

by orphan_account



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, junayd is a cinnamon roll and will not be denied his cinnamon, part crack?, plentiful em-dashes, this is not my character, this is not my story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:03:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22245553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Taken from the masterwork that is whatthedubs's "Callum's Sexuality Crisis (TM)," this fic elaborates upon the crack in prose form while hopefully staying true to the original tone. This fic will be written in snippets while exploring elven culture and the what-ifs of a threesome between Callum, Rayla, and a hot Earthblood elf (now named Junayd).Note: Each chapter title will have the corresponding chapter from the parent fic in parentheses.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Callum v. "his Mind" (ref. chap 5)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whatthedubbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthedubbs/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Callum's Sexuality Crisis (TM)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698929) by [whatthedubbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthedubbs/pseuds/whatthedubbs). 



> all rights to whatthedubs. I did not create the OCs, nor these story ideas. I am merely a conduit.

When they set up camp on the edge of the forest that led to Silvergrove, Rayla declared in loud tones that it was because she was “shit-tired” and “I can _ not _ handle my dads kissing when I’m shit-tired” and also because “I cannot handle the shade they’re going to throw at you and Junayd when I’m shit-tired.”

Rayla got testy when she was tired, and she really wasn’t lying this time because about three seconds after she lay down, she was asleep, and Rayla possessed the sort of nocturnal drive that took three hours to settle on the brightest of nights, and Callum was officially petrified, because if she wasn’t lying about her tiredness she probably also wasn’t lying about the “dads throwing shade” part either. 

Without anyone to talk to — Junayd had gone off to hug trees or some such — Callum was left with only his own thoughts for company, and his mind was not the kindest of fellows.

_ You’re so gonna get it _ , his Mind said.  _ Runaan already doesn’t like you. You think he’ll like you more if you bring  _ another  _ male companion into your partnership?  _

“Well, maybe _ , _ ” Callum reasoned, whispering so as not to wake Rayla. Seriously, that woman had hearing sharper than a hawk’s. “I mean, he has been better these past few months. I think he’s growing used to me.”

_ Ha! _ his Mind laughed.  _ You think that’s “better?” He’s civil for Rayla’s sake. If you ever grew the balls to spend more than thirty seconds in a room alone with him, he’d stick a shiv up your — _

“Okay, you know what?” Callum stood up with all the dignity he could muster, dusting off his pants and his wounded pride. “I’m not going to listen to this anymore. I’m going to find Junayd —”

_ Why, so he can make you feel better about yourself? Just another elf you use for your own selfish gains. _

“I — that’s not — I like Junayd just fine.”

_ Really? You certainly don’t show it. You know he’s been waiting for you to kiss him since he met you. Too bad he doesn’t know what a coward you are.  _

“I’m not —  _ ugh. _ ” Callum threw his hands into the air, cheeks flushing. “You say that like it’s simple. It’s not like kissing Rayla. Junayd’s a  _ guy _ .”

_ So?  _ His Mind had taken the tone of one speaking to a particularly dimwitted dog.  _ I wasn’t aware the greater anatomy between the sexes differed in more places than one.  _

Callum grasped his hair. “It’s  _ different _ , okay? You don’t get it! You’re just my subconscious. What could you possibly know about  _ kissing _ ?”

_ More than you, apparently — _

“What’s this about kissing?”

Callum near jumped out of his skin, his stomach dropping so fast it might have broken the sound barrier. Had that been, you know, possible. 

He pasted a gratified smile onto his lips and turned with one hand raised, trying to hide the set to his shoulders. “Jun-a-a-ayd, hi! I thought you were tree hunting?” 

Junayd blinked. “ ‘Tree-hunting?’ Who said anything about tree-hunting?”

Callum sucked in a breath at the sheer confusion in his voice. 

_ Yeah, Callum _ , his Mind said.  _ Where’d you hear that? Were you even listening to him before he left? _

_ No, I wasn’t _ , he retorted in a furious mind-whisper.  _ I was too busy freaking out about meeting my girlfriend’s dads and introducing them to boyfriend-two. _

“Callum?”

Callum looked up at Junayd’s concerned question. “Yes?” he said, speaking through his teeth.

“You’re acting oddly.”

“Just, you know, thinking about tomorrow and how wonderful it’s gonna be.” 

Junayd’s expression changed from confused-concern to understanding-concern, which was not much better for the butterfly conundrum in Callum’s stomach, but hey, it wasn’t Junayd’s fault he had such lovely eyes, especially when they were directed at  _ him _ . 

Junayd, wonderful elf that he was, set down the bow in his hands — (okay, where had that come from?;last he checked, Junayd was no warrior) — and knelt on the ground. He caught Callum’s hands in his, and Callum tried not to die from blushing because of the unintentional thoughts his mind came up with, seeing Junayd positioned such. 

“Callum, you’re being foolish,” Junayd said, and only he could make a potential insult sound like a compliment. It probably had something to do with the way his eyes sparkled with adoration and rainbows and singing bluebirds and stuff. “If Rayla’s dads are anything like Rayla, they’re only hard on the outside.” 

“That’s just what Rayla says, but —”

Junayd laughed softly. “But you’re scared of Runaan, I know. All the forest knows, as well. They laugh at you whenever you bring it up.”

“The forest...can laugh?”

“Of course.” Junayd smiled like he’d said something funny. “If they can speak, it’s only logical to assume they can laugh as well, no?”

“I...suppose?” Callum was still getting used to the whole “trees can talk” thing, but phrased that way, he felt silly even questioning.

_ Of course trees can laugh _ , his Mind said.  _ You’d know that if you bother to listen instead of flapping your lips all the time. _

“Besides,” Junayd went on, removing one of his hands from Callum’s to pick up the bow he’d left on the ground, “even if they have misgivings, I’m sure they’ll soften when I present them with my gofynnwch.” 

“Your  _ what _ ?”

“Gofynnwch?” Junayd said, and his brows furrowed, mildly concerned. “Gift of courtship? Has Rayla never explained such things to you?” 

“No…” Callum said, feeling as though he was missing something greatly important. 

“Oh, Junayd, it’s beautiful.”

Callum turned to see Rayla, awake and sitting upright (as if she’d never been asleep in the first place), running her finger along the curve of the bow, her eyes bearing a reverence that Callum had only ever seen directed towards her blades and Junayd on plant-speaking duty.

She turned a smile on the elf in question. “You Sang it to creation?”

Junayd blushed. “I — yes. When I explained our situation, the yew was quite willing —”

Rayla leaned forward with a fond smile and pulled him into a kiss. 

Junayd’s startled  _ mmf  _ was interrupted by Callum’s squeak. 

Both he and Rayla broke apart to look at him. They didn’t speak, the silence expectant, but their expressions spoke well enough.

“Well  _ I  _ don’t have any goffen...geffinwhench —  _ you know _ .” 

If their expressions could have turned any more incredulous, they might have unlocked the Confusion Arcanum. 

Finally, Junayd said slowly, “Callum. You literally saved their family. That’s a better gift than an old bow.” 

“ _ Old bow _ ?” Callum grasped at his hair. “Junayd, that thing looks like it fell from the sky —”

“It did, actually —”

“ — and Ethari chose to break the ghosting spell of his own volition —”

“But you also —”

“— and I saved Runaan because no one deserves to be trapped in a coin prison or whatever.  _ Dah _ , what I’m saying is it’s not like I did anything special _. _ ” He finished in a voice miserable as sodden boots (c’mon, that’s pretty dingy).

They were still staring at him, and it was getting pretty uncomfortable so he said, “Fine. I’ll just — go over here” — He pointed somewhere to his left — “and figure things out. I’m sorry for bothering you at all.” 

Rayla shook her head, lips quirked as if to say something, but eventually she flopped onto her side with some aside about “self-conscious boyfriends” and “I’m still too shit-tired for this shit.”

Callum hobble-walked over to a spot beneath a willow tree and sat down. The waving branches and long, drooping leaves gave the tree an air of sadness. Callum was sad. Callum and the willow tree were sad together.

“Oh, Callum,” Junayd’s voice sighed from beside him, because apparently he was too nice to know what “alone time” meant. “You worry too much.” 

“I think I worry just the right amount, thank you,” Callum said tightly. He brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms about them, uncaring of the fact that his words sounded childish even to his own ears. He felt like a child just about now, and he’d always been told to act true to his feelings, so here he was.

“Alright, then.” 

And Callum looked at him, because he’d gotten that tone in his voice, the one that meant he was done playing soft and was about to do something important. 

“Alright what?”

“We’ll make them something nice, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It would.”

Callum sniffed and held his arms out for a hug, to which Junayd graciously accepted and pulled him into an embrace that ended up with Callum half-sitting in Junayd’s lap and Junayd playing with his hair and telling him he was pretty.

“What are you good at?” Junayd said.

“Nothing, really,” Callum said, to which Junayd frowned, but Callum continued before he could deliver the parental rebuke of “don’t say that about yourself.” “I mean, magic, I guess. And...being confused.”

“And?” Junayd prompted.

“And getting Rayla out of her moods.”

“And?”

“And...drawing?”

Junayd smiled. “That’s good, Callum,” he said, and Callum tried not to show his ears reddened at the praise. “While those are all admirable traits, I believe there’s one best suited to a gift. Do you know which it is?”

“The last one,” Callum said, well-used to drawing pictures and portraits of loved ones on birthdays and holidays. He could draw Rayla, he supposed. He was used to that. Ethari and Runaan would be more of a challenge, seeing as it had been a while, but there were perks to an eidetic memory. 

As the idea set in his mind, he brightened considerably. “You’re a genius, Junayd,” he said, and it was Junayd’s turn to flush.

“I, um, thank you,” he said, because that’s what cinnamon rolls do.


	2. Rayla v. Callum's Rear (ref. chap 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Junayd passes inspection and Rayla does some inspecting of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> takes place pretty much directly after the last chapter.

Silvergrove was in much the same state it had been as last time. Moonshadows weren't fond of change and thus had no concept of ideas like "tasteful renovations" or "new is fun!"

While Junayd and Callum stumbled through the steps of the entry key, Rayla danced mocking circles about them, shouting insults in the form of encouragement, such as: "That's it, you lumps, the town will open to you if for no reason but pity!" and "That was  _ amazin _ g, Junayd, the way you completely botched the simplest step in the whole choreography!" and "Callum, your high-steps are a bit more like 'Ow! I'm stepping on hot coals!' than 'Oh Great Magical Trees, please accept me!' "

Luckily, Callum remembered most of the steps, and thus the majority of Rayla's comments were directed at Junayd (poor Junayd), while he was awarded a kiss for his effort, albeit a panicky, "Not in front of  _ everyone _ !" kiss, not that Callum's _logical_ protest could stop Rayla from trying it a second time, which made Callum stumble and have to start the key-dance from the beginning. (Rayla was less impressed this time.)

When they finished the dance, they were met with the ungodly sight of the entirety of Silvergrove gathered in wait, like a fuckton of owls or something. Moonshadows were secretive, yes, but no good village could withstand the lure of a good gossip, and the famous Runaan's daughter bringing home her human boyfriend and  _ new _ boyfriend? That was sure to fill all the gossip slots for the next three days at least. 

Runaan and Ethari were, of course, first in line of the gossip train. Ethari waited with a patient smile while Runaan did his best to look intimidating. Both could not contain their curiosity nor the way their eyes kept slipping to Junayd. Rayla effectively broke his sullen exterior with a squeal and an expert vault into Runaan's arms. 

Runaan took this as a test of reflex and grabbed hold of her midair. 

With his husband occupied, Ethari took on the real responsibility: scaring the living shit out of the two boys. 

Ethari could almost feel bad for them. They were both trembling, and they had yet to start.

He smiled, and it was such a _sweet_ smile, so matronly and loving. He said, "We're going to have a talk, all three of us."

In the distance, a baby cried.

*

In the end, Ethari's plans were foiled by Rayla (damn her to the Moon and back). When she caught wind of what Ethari was planning — essentially a tactical retreat and ambush — she pried herself from Runaan's grip and hollered that no, they were all going to go to the family home,  _ together,  _ and they were all going to have a talk,  _ together _ , in which no knives were drawn, no punches thrown, and no boyfriend's maimed.

Runaan, whipped as he was, agreed immediately. Ethari had no choice but to follow suit. Sighing, he set his "evil dad" persona on the shelf for later use. 

A half mile hike into the woods later, they stood on the porch of Runaan's and Ethari's home. There, they took a moment to catch up, Runaan fetching tea and making polite conversation, while smoothly excluding Junayd from both. While this may seem rude, it was in fact standard procedure of the pre-courtship ritual — of the Moonshadows, at least. To avoid possible maiming, it was imperative that the parents of the daughter or son remained of stable temper. This was difficult enough with the boyfriend/girlfriend being present, let alone making conversation and offing himself as an individual worthy of dating said daughter/son. Junayd didn't exactly understand it, as Earthbloods were far more of a "live and make do" sort, but he had to appreciate the fact that here he was, standing beside Rayla and her dads, limbs hale and healthy. He stood by and waited, less appreciatively.

Finally, as the sun began to set, their conversation died away.

"Well," Runaan said, and his tone carried a weight of finality. Pleasantries over, it was time to discuss the serious matters.

Junayd was acutely aware of the fact that they were still on the porch instead of in the actual house. He had yet to be accepted.

Ethari looked about slowly, seeming to notice something at the same time Junayd did.

"Where's Callum?" Ethari asked.

Rayla squinted and pursed her lips. "He's...taking a break."

Ethari looked confused. "But he hasn't even met with us properly yet."

"Yea-a--h," Rayla drew out the last syllable, fidgeting just a little. "He's just figuring some things out. Don't worry about him." She finished with a winning smile, and it must have worked because Ethari chuckled.

"Alright, then. But if he doesn't hurry, he'll be eating leftovers."

They all took a moment to laugh in what was, objectively, a horrible display of group viciousness. The moment passed.

Junayd struggled to contain his breathing as all eyes, inevitably, turned to him.

Ethari, especially, was scrutinizing him with unnecessary intensity. "And who's this?" he said, as if Junayd were appearing for the first time and had not been, in actuality, standing there for the better part of an hour. His tone was almost cordial, but beneath it ran a vein of steel that promised to bite. 

Junayd quailed.  _ Oh my God. This is the end. _

Rayla, oblivious to Junayd's panic, said, "That's Junayd. He's my boyfriend."

"Is that right?"

_ They're going to eat me. _

"Go easy on him, Ethari," Runaan said behind a smile. "You know how skittish those Earthbloods are."

" _ Runaan _ ," Rayla groaned, "keep your mildly racist comments to yourself."

"I'm only teasing, Rayla," Runaan clarified. "I'm sure Junayd is lovely." He grinned impishly. "He certainly looks it."

Rayla groaned again, this time scandalized. "Racist comments and suggestive comments. To yourself. Please."

In response to Ethari's prompting, Junayd bowed in an overly formal manner, bending his hulking frame to near normal height for a moment before he returned posture. He doffed the pack from his shoulders and retrieved the items he'd brought as gifts. (Don't ask me how a bow fits in a backpack. Plot armor, 'kay.) "It’s as Rayla says — or I hope it to be with your blessing. For Runaan, I bring a bow, for I know his is an occupation of skill in the killing arts. For Ethari, I bring the tools of a master craftsman, for I know his is an occupation of refinery. I hope these gifts please and serve as goffynwch." The way he spoke so flawlessly, you would never have known he'd spent the last two days reciting the words under his breath between panic attacks.

"Ugh, Junayd, how am I supposed to even contemplate kissing you when you sound like my grandfather?"

"Enough, Rayla," Runaan said softly, and she fell silent.

Meanwhile, Ethari was inspecting the carving tools and wearing an expression Runaan knew meant he was very pleased. 

"These are quite lovely," came the eventual response, and Junayd sagged like a deflated balloon.

"I believe he has passed inspection," Runaan murmured, and Rayla guffawed.

" 'Course he has. Look at him!"

"As I said —"

" _ Runaan. _ "

*

Meanwhile, Callum sat in the woods somewhere outside the house, idling over his drawing before final presentation. He wasn’t  _ hiding _ . He was  _ renovating _ , okay? 

He ran his finger over the edge of the paper, working to draw out a smudge from Nan Imra’s chin but only served to adhere it more firmly to the fibers. 

He groaned. "Runaan doesn't want a picture of his Nan with facial hair.”

“Callum? Callum!”

Callum jerked his head up at the first questing, then far more demanding, tone of his girlfriend’s voice. Through the thick trees, he could not make her out, but the sound of her footsteps was growing closer. How she could see him through the dense tangle of undergrowth was beyond him. More elf magic, he supposed.

“Callum,” Rayla repeated, exasperated, “don’t make me dodge all this ivy to get to you. You’ve been out here long enough Runaan might get  _ offended _ .”

This last sentence she said in mocking tones, because somehow Callum had ended up with a sadist who delighted in the utter terror that filled him whenever he came in contact with one or both of her dads.

He sighed, at himself, his  _ life _ . With a final dejected glance to Nan Imra’s bearded chin, he clambered to his feet. His second picture would have to suffice. 

*

“It’s...lovely,” Runaan said after a moment. 

Callum cringed, wringing his hands.

_ Oh God, does he mean it? He doesn’t mean it, does he. I mean, no one likes a bearded nan.  _

They were all seated (except for Runaan, who insisted it was traditional to stand when accepting goffynwch) in the living room, Rayla sat next to Callum on the three-seater, Ethari and Junayd on the loveseat inspecting Callum’s second drawing. Those two were getting along awfully well for how tense their initial meeting had been. Callum supposed it was because he was Junayd, and how could you  _ not  _ like Junayd? even if you were Rayla’s terrifying elf-dad. 

“Oh, Runaan, have you seen this one,” Ethari said of the second drawing. “It’s like he was  _ there  _ for our first date.” He squinted down at the paper in his hands. “Though, from this angle, I suppose he’d be hanging upside down from a tree.”

Runaan shuddered. “Let’s not go there.” He reached a hand out to exchange his drawing for Ethari’s.

As he did, Junayd said, “It’s quite cute,” with all sincerity, and he was the sort of elf who said things like that because he meant them, not for any skeevy motive, like getting his girlfriend’s dads to like him. Callum was quite sure the words “Junayd” and “skeevy” belonged in two separate galaxies.

Across the room, Junayd ooed over Nan Imra's likeness. Ethari, meanwhile, said, "I don't recall her having a beard, last I saw her." 

Callum tried to ignore him and focused instead on Runaan. His opinion was the important one, after all.

As Runaan’s eyes fell upon the drawing, his face went through a comical array of emotions. Surprise, delight, confusion, horror, disgust. 

“Tell me you weren’t actually there,” he said, and when he looked up his face was a thundercloud.

Callum sank into the comfort of the pillows and Rayla’s side. “No!” he cried. “I just — I thought of something I’d like to do with Rayla and —”

Runaan made an unintelligible noise and grasped at his horns. 

“That was the wrong answer,” Ethari said.

Rayla snorted. “I think you broke him.” 

Junayd looked concerned. 

In the end, they all ended up hauling themselves from their seats to escort the vanquished Runaan to the kitchen for some much needed moonberry wine. 

After much fumbling, decorking, drinking, and more drinking, Runaan calmed down enough to say, “I apologize,” with a perfectly straight face, to which Ethari and Rayla laughed, Callum wished the earth would swallow him, and Junayd said, “That’s alright, Runaan, we all make mistakes.” 

Ignoring the rest, he addressed Callum, “I know I have not always been the kindest.” 

_ Yes. Bows and arrows = not kind. Pointy things = not kind. _

“Or the most accepting.”

_ It only took two years to admit that.  _

“But I want you to know that I  _ do  _ appreciate what you’ve done for our family, and I can see the effort you’ve gone to please me.” He hesitated. “I approve this goffynwch, and Junayd’s as well. You have my blessing to court Rayla as you will.”

“Not that it matters,” Rayla quipped. “I’d have shagged them as I liked, with or without your approval.”

As they all took a moment to absorb this declaration, each member of the room coloring for a different reason, Rayla took the opportunity to examine Callum’s backside. It was a handsome backside, she decided. Definitely worthy of her attention.

Runaan, being Runaan, immediately snapped out of that horrible tornado of thoughts and turned a razor gaze on his daughter. Her focus had wandered during their interlude, it seemed, to places uncharted (he hoped), and if at all possible, he colored further. Callum, still flushed and wearing the expression of teenage boys at their worst, had yet to notice anything but whatever tawdry horrors his subconscious had concocted.

At least one thing had gone right.

“ _ Rayla _ ,” Runaan said in his most affronted tone, but she seemed not to hear him.

Ethari, for his part, had taken not much longer to notice Rayla’s attention, Callum’s lack, and Runaan’s horror. It took him a moment to process what was happening, but when he did, he could not contain his laughter. His was just so _familiar_ , like a young Rayla after witnessing them kiss.

Runaan paused in h is staring to glare at Ethari. The utter  _ betrayal _ .

Callum stumbled to his feet, still dazed, stuttering, “I’m gonna...go outside.” 

At the prospect of getting Callum alone, Junayd was suddenly ( _ very  _ unobviously) alert and mumbling some shite excuse about forgetting to say hello to the trees. 

Rayla watched them both leave. Contemplatively. And then got up to follow.

Runaan, still mildly scandalized, stood stunned at the sheer  _ moxie _ Rayla had in leaving without acknowledging either of them. 

“You can’t help but be proud of her,” Ethari said, moving to stand beside him, “whatever you think of them. Two is almost always better than one. Do you suppose she'll except Junayd as fwtresi?”

Runaan was still caught on the first thing his husband had said. Did his feelings really come off so strong?

“I think of them well enough,” Runaan said, ignoring the other (more disturbing) comments. 

Ethari turned to look at him with brows raised. “Really now?”

“Yes. Junayd has proven kind of heart and a skilled weapon Singer to boot.”

“And Callum?”

“Yes, Callum’s done well, too.” His tone turned defensive. “Why does everyone seem so surprised about this?”

“Well you certainly don’t show him much love.”

Runaan recoiled. “ _ Love _ ? Ethari, I love none but you and Rayla.”

Ethari rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Runaan scoffed, but he crossed his arms and glared hard at the floor. “It’s less to do with  _ him _ , and more to do with  _ her _ ,” he finally admitted.

“With...Rayla.” Ethari spoke slowly, as if coming to understand what he said as he said it.

“Yes.” A pause. “Sometimes I forget she’s a grown elf and can make decisions for herself.”

Ethari laughed. “Well, don’t you worry, she certainly won’t hesitate to tell you should you forget again.” 

“I’m well aware.” He scowled. “Be that as it may, I will think on what you said. I will strive to do better with the boy. He doesn’t deserve my ire.”

“No, he certainly doesn’t.” Ethari kissed him to soften the blow. “You know I love that about you. You don’t take criticism as a personal affront but as an invitation to grow. It’s an admirable quality, and rare.”

Runaan smiled. “So too is speaking one’s mind, especially in favor of others.” 

And then their clothes fell off and they made mad love on the floor because they were still  _ young,  _ damnit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wicked ending, i know


	3. Junayd and Callum v. The Buttress Talk (ref. chap 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The much-awaited buttress "talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the result of a comment ramble whatthedubs and I had on the original fic. if you're actually interested, you might look over there. its free entertainment, if nothing else
> 
> note: the bonus at the end is far from nsfw but it is implied that "things" are happening. it's very non-explicit crack tho

“Let me see you for a moment, Junayd.”

Junayd had never thought the sound of his name could impart such terror, but when Ethari let slip those two familiar syllables as he finished recounting a childhood story of himself and a clod of grumpy grass that wished for him to avoid stepping on it, he felt a streak of bestial horror rocket from toes to hair even while he nodded and got to his feet.

“You, as well, Callum.”

Junayd had a moment of confusion in which he could not decide between feeling pity for his cornered boyfriend and sheer relief at the company. Ethari was a battle one did not fight alone. 

After a cordial goodbye (and smooches for Runaan), Ethari led them up the dimly-lit stairway towards the bedrooms. The stairs wound upwards for endless seconds (Silvergrove real estate was built upon trees, of course), lit by only a single sconce every ten feet or so. While Junayd appreciated the beauty of the architecture, the deep wood and spiraling designs, he was unused to the darkness. Earthbloods might enjoy the deepness of the earth, but they did not find solace in it like Moonshadows did. Junayd spared a glance for Callum and found him similarly uneasy.

About halfway up the stairs, Ethari broke the silence. “So, how did you like moonberry surprise?”

“It was surprising,” Junayd said at the same time Callum said, “It was berryish.” 

They both flushed, and Ethari chuckled. “Both apt descriptions,” he offered before ascending the final steps and continuing down the hall. 

They entered a furnished chamber, small when compared with the vastness of the sitting room. A large bed was pressed to the corner, as well as a writing desk and nightstand. A nook in the wall, encased in shadows, marked what could only be a dressing closet. The ceiling was low enough that Junayd had to hunch his neck to avoid hitting his horns. 

These were not the accommodations he’d expected for a surprise guest — it was far too nice, and the room seemed rather more like a master suite than a guest bedroom —

“Well,” Ethari said with a dramatic flourish. “Welcome to my true home.” 

Junayd had only a moment to realize he was in _Ethari_ ’s room before the elf was speaking again.

“Don’t look so uncomfortable,” he said. “I’m not here to chastise, only to inform.” Ethari took a seat on the bed but despite his placating words he made no motion to invite the others to sit.

“I may not have an assassin’s eye, but I believe I’m keener than my husband when it comes to matters of the heart.” He gestured between the two of them and said quite seriously, “Have you two had a chance to act on your feelings?”

The ensuing flustering bullshit was interrupted by soft laughter.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Ethar said, still chuckling. “As I thought. You both act too skittish for the confidence of experienced lovers.” He continued over their stammering, “I assume it’s different with Rayla?” 

Callum stared at his floor, hoping he might forge a connection with the floorboards enough that they might break and swallow him at his asking. 

Junayd was silent save a skittering glance at Callum.

Callum took the hint. He sighed, and shuffled a bit. “Yeah,” he admitted finally.

Ethari’s brows shot up and his mouth formed a surprised O. “It’s just you, then? That’s not what I was expecting.” He regained control of his expression and smiled. “But it certainly makes the issue easier. Junayd, I assume you’ve been with males before.” 

Junayd flushed and stammered.

“Good,” Ethari said cheerily, as if his garbled syllables had been a response. “You’ll be able to educate _in medias res_. In the meantime, I’ll supply you with a bit of additional knowledge. Even if you do have experience, I have the years on you.”

Ethari then proceeded to recite a list of _valuable_ tidbits, issues that might arise mid-action and their immediate solutions. His list was clear, concise, and said with the clean air of one who had performed the same speech a hundred times over. Through his horrified stupor, Callum wondered who else had endured this torture. 

“And then, there’s communication — oh, did I already mention that? Well, no problem repeating myself.” Ethari leveled them with a heavy look. “Communication and lubrication — you’ll remember it because it rhymes. They’re the foundation of all sexual health, especially when it comes to male on male relationships. Let me tell you, if I knew then what I knew now, Runaan and I would have saved ourselves a great deal of embarrassment. And mess.” 

And so on.

At one point, Junayd was flushing so hard, he looked like he was asphyxiating, and Callum wondered if he would fall over from lack of air. 

Ethari seemed not to notice, for he continued thus, in excruciating detail, finger raised as if he were giving a mathematics lesson.

Ten minutes in, he paused and cocked his head. A smile blossomed across his face, and he called, “Runaan, do come in here. I can hear you two skulking in the background.”

There was a moment of what could only be described as pouting silence before a sullen Runaan slipped into the room. Rayla sauntered in behind him as if hoping no one would notice her, but the amusement coming off her might as well have been a tangible touch.

Ethari moved to his husband and placed a hand on his arm. “Would you care to tell us what you were doing eavesdropping, my light?” he asked, amused warmth dripping from his tone. 

Runaan grumbled, shoulders hunching, before he melted beneath Ethari’s skilled fingers.

“I only meant to help you,” he said. “For all your candor, it seems you’ve forgotten that our daughter is being courted by a human.”

Ethari looked thoughtful, tapping his chin with his forefinger. “I suppose I did, at that. Skipped over it entirely. Would you care to do the honors?” He made room on the bed (much to the dismay of Callum’s aching legs), and Runaan sat gingerly, showing none of the relaxed air he had at the dinner table. Rayla crept over to sit beside him, again trying and failing to be discreet.

Runaan cleared his throat. “It has come to my attention that you may be unaware of

certain cultural differences between our two races,” he began in overly formal tones.

“Ahm,” Callum said awkwardly, “if this is about the horn-touching or whatever, Rayla already told me —”

“Not that.” 

“The, ah, the ear sensitivity, then —”

“Not that either.”

“The moon’s effects on —”

“ _No._ ” Runaan pressed a thumb to his temple and looked vaguely nauseous. “Please stop before I vomit.” He drew in a breath and leveled Callum with a stare. “This is about _fwtresi_.”

Callum paused. “I...don’t think I know that one.”

Many things happened, then.

Junayd shook like a startled horse. “You _don’t_?”

Rayla giggled.

Ethari stifled a smile.

Runaan did something a thousand times more horrifying than any of the times he’d threatened to relieve Callum of his limbs. He smiled, a wicked, horrible smile. 

“Allow me to educate you, then.” Runaan straightened and gestured to himself, then to Ethari. “We are Rayla’s buttresses.” 

Callum blinked. “Her what?” 

“It’s what _fwtresi_ means,” Rayla supplied helpfully, then burst into a fit of giggles. 

Callum stared at the three elves on the bed, searching vaguely for any stray bits of facial-brick he might have missed these past five years. “You don’t look like a buttress,” Callum said, hoping desperately he had not gone mad.

“A buttress doesn’t have to look like anything,” Junayd said. “It’s just...what you are.” 

“Okay.” Callum grasped at his hair and tilted his head to the ceiling. “Am I crazy, or are you saying that you and Ethari are supporting stones built against a wall?”

“In essence, yes,” Runaan said gleefully. “You see, elven conception is a bit different than a human one.”  
Callum looked back at him, vaguely horrified. “You mean —”

“Not anatomically. The physical details are the same, but when adding primal sources to the mix, it becomes a fair bit more complicated.”

“Alright.” Callum’s voice sounded odd to his own ears.

“When two elves agree to consummate a partnership, they do not only pass on genetic qualities but magical qualities as well. The magical essence is inherited separately, the seeds coming to rest in a single vessel — much the same way as the physical ritual, yes?”

Callum nodded, face furrowing. That made sense.

“Because of this, an elf might have more than two parents. For example, Lain and Tiadrin wished for Ethari and I to be present —”

“Wait, wait, _what?_ ” 

Rayla snorted, then chortled, then broke into a fit of hysterical laughter. Meanwhile, Callum was having a bit of an internal crisis, and the fact that his girlfriend found his mental assassination entertaining didn’t help. Junayd pat Callum on the shoulder, reassuring but confused.

“Runaan,” Ethari chided, but there was amusement in his voice, “go easy on him.” 

“As I was saying,” Runaan continued as if nothing had happened, “a couple may ask those close to their heart to be present during the conception. Lain and Tiadrin asked this of Ethari and I, and we agreed happily.”

“ _What?_ ” Callum’s head was broken. Callum’s mind was broken. Callum’s brain was broken. He tried to reign in the hundred rude questions that came to mind. Instead, he said, “But isn’t that...weird?” 

At this, Runaan lost some of his amusement. “Of course not. To be offered the title of _fwtresi_ is a great honor. Through the ritual, a group may emboss a relationship far deeper than that of mere friends. They become the shared bearers of a child, a connection only beneath that of true lovers.”

Junayd had unconsciously moved over to Callum, close enough that their fingers brushed, and he was looking at Rayla with something akin to longing.

“So, you and Ethari,” Callum said, mouthing the words slowly. “You were there for — when Rayla was — _with her parents_?” 

“Come on, Callum,” Rayla said, rolling her eyes and smiling fondly. “It’s not like they were actually _doing_ anything. They just gave me a kernel of their magic.”

“Well, actually —”

Runaan slapped a hand to Ethari’s mouth. “ _Yes_ ,” he said sharply. “While other, less disciplined individuals may choose to engage in the process, most are simply there for support and the exchange of magic.”

Ethari snorted and pried Runaan’s fingers from his lips. “Don’t exaggerate, love. It’s certainly not ‘ _most_ ’. Uptight as you might be, _most_ won’t say no to a good time.”

Rayla was looking between them with a furrowed brow. “That’s...not what Mum told me,” she said slowly. 

Runaan glared at Ethari, who smiled and waggled his fingers in return.

“You weren’t old enough,” Ethari said to Rayla. “She thought it might confuse you.”

Rayla paused, then grimaced. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” she said. “Let’s go back to Callum, yeah?”

“Yes, let’s go back to Callum,” Callum said. “Because right now Callum is feeling a bit lightheaded by the cultural divide, and he thinks he might need to sit down —”

Junayd caught him before he could fall on his ass.

*

**BONUS** : "Lain and Tiadrin's Buttress Escapade"

"My light, you're more beautiful than the moon's reflection on the sea."

"Is _that_ why you call her 'light'?"

"Shut up, Runaan. _I_ think it's romantic, Lain."

A snort. "Well I suppose that's one reason you two don't get it on. With lines like that, I think I'd groan of shame far before pleasure."

"I'll have you know we 'get it on' far more than you think. Just last week —"

" _Last week_?" A loud scoff. "Ethari and I go at it at least twice a day."

"That's because _some_ of us have responsibilities."

"Perhaps we shouldn't have invited them, Tia."

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course we should have."

"Just look how he's ruining the mood!" There was a muffled _thump_ , like something heavy falling onto the bed. "Ethari, control your husband."

"Runaan, don't be mean. Lain, we are _honored_ to be here. And I think your lines are quite poetic."

"Thank you." Heavy sarcasm. "But you're not the one it's intended for. You'll have to battle my wife for wooing rights."

"I'd win that battle."

"You could at least pretend, Tia." 

Another _thump_ , this time the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh, then a yelp.

" _Ow_."

"Don't call me Tia. That's not the memory I want to have before I conceive your child." 

Lain groaned. "This is...not the way I imagined this going."

Runaan gestured down at his very-naked self, and the rest of them who were similarly (un)dressed. "Really? This scenario seems fairly straightforward," he said. 

"Yes," Ethari piped up, "do continue."

Lain glared, morose, then blew a strand of hair from his face. He glanced to Tiadrin, who, too, was looking at him expectantly.

"When did it become _my_ responsibility?" 

"When you decided to marry the most demanding woman this side of the continent."

"Shut up, Ethari."

Lain thought for a moment. He seemed to light up suddenly. "You smell like pine boughs, and I'm lying under you." 

This, somehow, earned him a delighted squeal and a kiss.

Ethari was confused.

Runaan was incredulous. "Pine boughs? As in Yule?"

"I think he meant the human tradition of kissing under pine boughs," Ethari said slowly. 

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." 

Lain flipped him a rude gesture but did not break from his embrace.

Thus proceeded the most horrific exchange of bedroom talk the two had ever heard.

"You set my heart aflutter." 

"Like a bird?"

"Like a _dove_." 

"Oh, _Lain_." 

Muffled kissing noises.

( _What in Garlath...?)_

"My love for you is so great it's painful, but it's the most pleasurable pain I've felt in my life." 

"Garlath permits us the most painful of oxymorons."

"I _know_. Love is life's greatest hurt, but also it's greatest love."

( _Well that makes sense, because it's love.)_

"How does that feel?"

" _Aching_. But we fit together so beautifully."

"We were made to fit together."

( _My gods, this is worse than Senia's novels.)_

_(Bear with it, love. It's an honor, remember?)_

_(If this is what "honor" feels like, I should not have taken up the assassin's mantle.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah. that happened. extra points if you got the city of angels reference.


End file.
